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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23840710">They Call It Inspiration</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/allonsy_gabriel/pseuds/allonsy_gabriel'>allonsy_gabriel</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Adventure Zone (Podcast)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Attempt at Humor, Canonical Character Death, Cuddling &amp; Snuggling, Domestic Fluff, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Families of Choice, Family, Family Dinners, Family Feels, Fluff, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Happy, Home, Hurt/Comfort, It's! Healthy!, Just very sad, M/M, Men Crying, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Post-Episode: e067-069 Story and Song Parts 1-3, Sad, Short &amp; Sweet, Sick Character, Sickfic, Soft feelings, Taako v. Feeling Actual Emotions, Tags May Change, get all your useless TAZ fluff here, hey guys? this new chapter?, home as a concept, it's sad, this may just end up being my TAZ story dumping ground</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-04-25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-06-22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-02 19:17:06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,350</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23840710</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/allonsy_gabriel/pseuds/allonsy_gabriel</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>You don’t know where you are.</p><p>It’s shining and silver and there are stars, there are so many stars above you, and somewhere, somewhere, someone is speaking. Speaking to you.</p><p>And then the voice is gone.<br/> </p><p>(Welcome to the TAZ dumping ground, your ficlet collection for the modren era. Join me as I take my endless Feelings about a fucking <i>DnD comedy podcast<i> and turn them alchemy-like into shitty drabbles about all our favourite fantasy dumbasses. Updates whenever. Summary blurb pertains to newest chapter.)</i></i></p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Angus McDonald &amp; Taako, Julia Burnsides/Magnus Burnsides, Kravitz/Taako (The Adventure Zone), Lup &amp; Taako (The Adventure Zone), Magnus Burnsides &amp; Carey Fangbattle, Taako (The Adventure Zone) &amp; Everyone</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>55</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. I'll Be There When The Light Comes In</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>welcome to my TAZ ficlet dumping ground</p><p>we've officially hit that point, folks</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>There’s fantasy-country music playing from the kitchen. It’s some fucking—fucking </span>
  <em>
    <span>fantasy-Rascal Flatts </span>
  </em>
  <span>or some shit, and if Taako listens closely, he can hear someone humming along as they chop up, like, probably vegetables or something.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The chops are quick, clean, precise and steady by the sound of it, and Taako can’t help but smile.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Lup</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Gods</span>
  </em>
  <span>, he loves her, even if Barry did somehow turn her on to fucking </span>
  <em>
    <span>fantasy-country</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>That’s a fucking </span>
  <em>
    <span>crime, </span>
  </em>
  <span>but—</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Damn.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lup’s in the kitchen making… something. Taako can smell garlic and cilantro, so it’s probably something from home.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Taako looks down at the stack of papers he’s supposed to be grading.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And honestly?</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Fuck it</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Taako spent fucking—</span>
  <em>
    <span>two hundred and something plus fucking years</span>
  </em>
  <span>—looking for… something.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s—look, Taako’s got, like, </span>
  <em>
    <span>seven </span>
  </em>
  <span>degrees, including fantasy-PhD’s in both theoretical transmutation and interplanetary physics, but he’s not a psychology expert. He </span>
  <em>
    <span>is</span>
  </em>
  <span>, however, a </span>
  <em>
    <span>Taako</span>
  </em>
  <span> expert, so he knows he’s got, like, more issues that fucking fantasy-</span>
  <em>
    <span>Cosmo</span>
  </em>
  <span> and approximately a metric </span>
  <em>
    <span>shit ton </span>
  </em>
  <span>of those have to do with, like, abandonment and commitment and all that good stuff, so—</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Shit. Okay. At the risk of sounding </span>
  <em>
    <span>sappy</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Taako understands that he’s spent his literal </span>
  <em>
    <span>entire life </span>
  </em>
  <span>looking for ‘</span>
  <em>
    <span>home’ </span>
  </em>
  <span>or some other equally cliche fantasy-Hallmark bullshit, and now he—</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Shit, he’s got it, ain’t he? That’s what this is? That’s—</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Angus sitting on the couch in the evenings, cross-legged with his homework splayed out on his knees, one pen tucked behind his ear and another twirling between his fingers, calling out half-thought-out questions as he goes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kravitz groaning overdramatically as he tears a rift directly into the living room, flopping down on the couch in full skeleton-mode and refusing to move for, like, an </span>
  <em>
    <span>hour</span>
  </em>
  <span> because he’s a ridiculous drama queen with “tired bones”.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Barry stumbling out of his lab at fucking </span>
  <em>
    <span>four in the godsdamn morning</span>
  </em>
  <span>, eyes red and hands shaking as he babbles on and on and </span>
  <em>
    <span>on and on and on</span>
  </em>
  <span> about his latest experiment and drinks hot cocoa with probably too much milk in it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Magnus and Merle barging in at any and all hours, yelling and shouting and arguing about the </span>
  <em>
    <span>stupidest shit</span>
  </em>
  <span>, laughing loudly and inevitably breaking </span>
  <em>
    <span>something</span>
  </em>
  <span>, demanding snacks and making the dumbest jokes imaginable.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lup.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lup taking fucking </span>
  <em>
    <span>forever</span>
  </em>
  <span> in the bathroom in the mornings and then throwing a bitchfit when her eggs are cold at breakfast.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lup leaving her books </span>
  <em>
    <span>everywhere</span>
  </em>
  <span>, as if the bookshelf isn’t right </span>
  <em>
    <span>fucking there! Please! This is not a difficult concept, Lulu!</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Lup dancing to too loud music in the living room, jumping up and down and laughing as she tugs them all in, spinning and twirling and happy and </span>
  <em>
    <span>living</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lup standing now in the kitchen with her back to Taako, humming along to fantasy-Dixie Chicks as she tosses diced tomatoes and cilantro and garlic and onion and lime juice and jalapeno and salt into Taako’s fancy food processor. There’s enchiladas in the oven and a smile on her face as she turns toward Taako, a bright green dishtowel slung over her shoulder.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>That’s—</span>
  <em>
    <span>this </span>
  </em>
  <span>is home.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s fucking crazy that he’s here, a whole-ass other fucking </span>
  <em>
    <span>universe </span>
  </em>
  <span>away from where he started. That he’s got—a house. A husband. A </span>
  <em>
    <span>family</span>
  </em>
  <span>, and a fucking big one at that, full of dumbasses and idiots who make him wanna commit, just, </span>
  <em>
    <span>all the crimes</span>
  </em>
  <span>, but he loves them all to </span>
  <em>
    <span>fucking </span>
  </em>
  <span>pieces, which—</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Okay.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>That’s officially enough </span>
  <em>
    <span>emotions </span>
  </em>
  <span>for today, </span>
  <em>
    <span>thank you very much</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You done with your nerd shit?” Lup asks, wiping her hand son the dishtowel.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Pfffft, ch’boy doesn’t do </span>
  <em>
    <span>nerd shit</span>
  </em>
  <span>—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re a fucking </span>
  <em>
    <span>professor</span>
  </em>
  <span>. You </span>
  <em>
    <span>run a school</span>
  </em>
  <span>—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Shut up and get outta my house.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lup laughs at him, her head thrown back, a few dyed-red strands of hair falling out of the loose bun she’d tied them back into.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Taako loves her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>This isn’t news, but it’s true.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>(No! No! No more emotions! That’s enough! He’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>dying</span>
  </em>
  <span>!)</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You wanna call our boys up for dinner? I made Auntie’s special enchiladas </span>
  <em>
    <span>and </span>
  </em>
  <span>salsa </span>
  <em>
    <span>and </span>
  </em>
  <span>we’ve got the good chips,” Lup says, knocking hips with Taako as she moves past him to the dining room. “And set the table, would ya?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Taako rolls his eyes, but he’s happy to do it. Happy to toss out a couple of stupid kitschy plates decorated with the </span>
  <em>
    <span>IPRE </span>
  </em>
  <span>logo that he stole from the Starblaster. Happy to set out forks and glasses for everyone except Angus, who gets a spork and a sippy cup because Taako’s, like, responsible for the kid but he’s not </span>
  <em>
    <span>responsible </span>
  </em>
  <span>and it’s fucking hilarious when the kid gets pissed. Happy to bang on each of their doors and tell them to </span>
  <em>
    <span>finish up whatever dork-ass shit you’re doing in there, bubbeleh, or I’ll eat your enchiladas myself.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Happy to sit at the head of the table and see his family sitting there with him, smiling and laughing and, in Barry’s case, eating </span>
  <em>
    <span>way </span>
  </em>
  <span>too much cheese.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He’s happy to be home.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>~fin~</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. No Love Like Your Love</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>So here's the deal, gang:</p><p>Taako feels like shit.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>am I uploading chapter two at midnight literally <i>the day after I post the fic<i>? yes. do I care? absolutely not.</i></i></p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>So here's the deal, gang:</p><p>Taako feels like shit.</p><p>Actually, that's<span>—that's putting it lightly, really. Taako feels worse than shit. Taako feels like the shit that shit shits out.</span></p><p>
  <span>He's nauseous and his head is pounding and his ribs and hips ache in a way he didn't think ribs and hips could do, really, and sitting or standing upright for any extended period of time makes him dizzy and light-headed and basically it sucks the most ass, ever.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He figures he's sick, but he also doesn't know what parts of this are <em>Taako Being Sick</em> and what parts are <em>Taako's Body Having Gone Through The Fucking Ringer And Now He Must Suffer Eternally</em>.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Aching hips are probably just leftovers from some good ol' washing machine damage. The pain in his ribs might be that, too. The nausea and headache are probably from whatever mystery illness he's come down with, but the fact that he missed his coffee this morning and hasn't eaten in a minute might also be part of it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>However you slice, it's <em>pretty much shit, actually</em>, and Taako is miserable.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Life is nothing but a cycle of pain and joyless, endless suffering," he says, shifting under his sheets in a futile attempt to get comfy. He's either too hot or too cold, too spread out or not spread out enough, and he just wants to sleep but at the same time feels too restless to settle down.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I'm sure it is, darling," Kravitz replies, leaning over to press a soft, quick kiss to Taako's forehead.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Taako scowls as he moves away, crosses his arms over his chest, and says, "Look, just because <em>you</em> can't get sick, Mr. Undead-McDeadPants, doesn't mean <em>I'm</em> not allowed a little time to wallow in my own self-pity."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Of course not, love," Kravitz says. He doesn't look back up from the book he's reading, but Taako can hear him smiling from across the wide expanse of their fantasy-California King.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"<em>Ugh</em>," he groans, flopping over onto his stomach and then wincing as the pressure makes his ribs flare up in pain. "I've never done anything wrong in my life, <em>ever</em>, to deserve this."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kravitz laughs at that, just a bit, and when Taako looks up he meets his eye, and there's something so <em>fond</em> there, fond and a little concerned.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Taako narrows his eyes, huffs, and swallows his pride. He looks at his husband, his nice, cool, cosy husband, who has arms that are perfect for snuggling and fingers that are perfect for running through Taako's hair, and makes grabby hands.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kravitz responds immediately, laughing again as he rolls over to Taako's side and pulls him close, one arm wrapping around the elf's back as the other dutifully cards through his hair.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Taako sighs with contentment as he wraps his own arms around Kravitz's back and buries his face in Kravitz's shoulder. He tangles their legs together, pulls his husband closer, and hums.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Better?" Kravitz asks, placing another soft kiss to Taako's forehead.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And Taako nods as he finally feels himself drifting off to sleep.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Only Fools Rush In</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Julia Waxmen was tall, with dark skin and curly black hair that was pulled into a bun on the top of her head.</p><p>She looked like she could break him in half and her cheeks dimpled when she smiled.</p><p>Magnus fell in love pretty much immediately.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>three chapters in two days... am i clearing out my google docs folder??? mayhaps.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Julia was the one who found him. At the time, he hadn’t thought much of it—he must’ve had a rough night if the patchiness of his memory was anything to go by. That and the fact that he woke up in an inn in a town he didn’t know the name of.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He’d been wandering the craftsmen’s quarter for a while, looking for literally </span>
  <em>
    <span>any</span>
  </em>
  <span> signs of familiarity when he felt a hand on his shoulder.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He turned and found himself face to face with the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Julia Waxmen was tall, with dark skin and curly black hair that was pulled into a bun on the top of her head.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She looked like she could break him in half and her cheeks dimpled when she smiled.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Magnus fell in love pretty much immediately.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You alright there, big guy?” she asked, and Magnus felt his face heat up.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I, uh—yes, um, yes ma’am, I just—lost. I’m lost,” he stammered.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Julia laughed, and Magnus loved her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>**</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sometimes, Magnus was quiet.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It wasn’t often, and it was never for long, but there were times when something would catch his attention—a red handkerchief, the smell of lavender or sawdust, a tune from an old Faerun folk song—and he’d go quiet, if only for a moment, a far-off look in his eye.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>No one ever mentioned it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Magnus didn’t know if he was thankful for that or not.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>**</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You would’ve—you guys would’ve loved her,” he muttered one evening as he sat on his porch, a glass in his hand.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was his week to host, to have all his friends and all his family come over to the house he’d built on the ruins of his home, the house that felt too big and too empty, the house he filled with expertly carved furniture and lavender bouquets.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Who?” Lup asked, staring at Magnus from her place leaning against Barry’s side.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Julia,” Magnus said quietly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Buddy, you don’t—if you don’t want to talk about it, you don’t have to—” Merle said, placing his own glass down.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, I—I want to,” Magnus insisted. “She—gods, you guys never got to meet her, but she was… incredible. Amazing. I used to—I used to say </span>
  <em>
    <span>perfect</span>
  </em>
  <span>, but she always told me that that was silly, that—she’d say </span>
  <em>
    <span>‘Podody’s Nerfect, Magnus,’</span>
  </em>
  <span> but she—she was perfect for </span>
  <em>
    <span>me</span>
  </em>
  <span>. She did a lot of the metalwork at the shop, and she was </span>
  <em>
    <span>good</span>
  </em>
  <span>. The axe she made me was the best axe I ever owned, but she wasn’t ever satisfied, she always wanted to do</span>
  <em>
    <span> better</span>
  </em>
  <span>, and—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The words caught in his throat.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Magnus,” Carey said quietly from her spot beside him, and she reached over and took his hand. “She sounds wonderful.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“She was!” Magnus agreed, wiping at his eyes. “She was just—she was </span>
  <em>
    <span>good</span>
  </em>
  <span>, y’know? The best person I ever met. She was kind and funny and smart and just—</span>
  <em>
    <span>so </span>
  </em>
  <span>beautiful, and I was just a meathead with no memories but she—fuck.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Carey leaned over so that she could wrap her arms around Magnus’ shoulders. “I wish I could’ve met her,” she whispered.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, uh, me—me too,” Magnus replied. “I miss her so godsdamn much.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I—I don’t know if this is any consolation,” Kravitz said softly, probably so he didn’t wake either the sleeping elf or the sleeping child who were both curled together across his lap. “But, Magnus—you </span>
  <em>
    <span>will</span>
  </em>
  <span> see her again, someday. She’s waiting for you, on the other side.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Magnus squeezed Carey again and smiled.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>**</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Julia found him, again, and Magnus followed her into the house she built for them, a house full of expertly carved furniture and lavender bouquets and something else, too, something that filled up every empty space and took Magnus’ breath away.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Julia turned towards him, smiling with dimples in her cheeks.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She laughed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And Magnus loved her.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. episode 66</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>You don’t know where you are.</p><p>It’s shining and silver and there are stars, there are so many stars above you, and somewhere, somewhere, someone is speaking. Speaking to you.</p><p>And then the voice is gone.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>we've got an angsty one here, boys.<br/>so sorry in advance</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>You don’t know where you are.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s shining and silver and there are stars, there are so many stars above you, and somewhere, somewhere, someone is speaking. Speaking to you.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And then the voice is gone.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>###</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>You’re Taako, from TV!</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And you are so, so loved.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You are loved. And you are alone.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sazed is… fine. He’s fine, pretty much, mostly. Kinda annoying. He’s clingy and he seems to </span>
  <em>
    <span>care</span>
  </em>
  <span> and you</span>
  <span>—don’t. You just… don’t. Care. You don’t care, not about him and not about anyone, really. You care about, like, </span>
  <em>
    <span>people</span>
  </em>
  <span>, sorta, generally, in a general, abstract sense. Still not, like, completely—you gotta look out for what’s most important, y’know? Gotta look out for number one—but.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You’ve never cared much for individuals.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>For some reason, they never seem real.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Never seem permanent.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They feel like dust.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But you’re fine, you’re </span>
  <em>
    <span>good out here</span>
  </em>
  <span>, even if you </span>
  <em>
    <span>are</span>
  </em>
  <span> constantly lonely, constantly looking over your shoulder, constantly looking for </span>
  <em>
    <span>someone</span>
  </em>
  <span> (which—what’s that about anyway? There’s no one there. There’s never anyone there. There’s never </span>
  <em>
    <span>been </span>
  </em>
  <span>anyone there.)</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Anyway.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You’ve got your cooking show and honestly? It’s pretty fucking rad. You’ve got Sazed and he’s… something. Useful, maybe? Nice to look at, at least.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Things are good.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Aren’t they good?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Aren’t you happy?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You’re loved, you’re adored, you’re famous and moderately wealthy and seem to have a real knack for this </span>
  <em>
    <span>transmutation</span>
  </em>
  <span> stuff.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You’re happy, right?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>This is what you want, isn’t it?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You’re content now, aren’t you?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Aren’t you satisfied?</span>
</p><p>
  <strike>
    <span>You’ve never known a moment of satisfaction your entire life.</span>
  </strike>
</p><p>
  <span>Things are good.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>You</span>
  </em>
  <span> are good.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You’re good, right now, right here, as Sazed passes you an apron covered in stars.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You’ve always loved the stars.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You’ve never known why.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He passes you an apron and you smile as you go to face the crowd.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There’s about forty people here, tonight.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And they all love you, Taako.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They all love you, but at the end of the night?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You’re the only one standing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And you are alone.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>please comment and lemme know what you think</p>
        </blockquote><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>please comment and tell me what you think!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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